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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29337504">(wondering if you knew) i was enchanted to meet you</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/anastasia_93_daybidaylove/pseuds/anastasia_93_daybidaylove'>anastasia_93_daybidaylove</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Pitch Perfect (Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canon Compliant, Domestic Fluff, F/F, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, i mean the main characteristic of this is Soft, see beginning notes for TW</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 12:09:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>11,654</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29337504</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/anastasia_93_daybidaylove/pseuds/anastasia_93_daybidaylove</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"So many moments, big and small and happy and sad; a whole life’s worth of them. From their first year in college to now.<br/>Living a life Beca hadn’t dared to even dream of, way back when.<br/>And yet, here she was. Living it. <br/>The smell of cinnamon all around and their hands safely clasped together."</p>
<p>Beca and Chloe through the years - a thread of moments and memories, tied together by cinnamon rolls</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Chloe Beale/Beca Mitchell</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>50</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>(wondering if you knew) i was enchanted to meet you</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>firstly, TW: in this story there is mention of miscarriage and the emotional state it causes gets explored. no graphic depictions of any kind, but still if you think that would be upsetting to you proceed accordingly<br/>hello it's been so long i know!! but here we are, and this is a story i love with my whole heart<br/>you're seeing the word count, and it's known that i like to say and write many words skjdfksdsd i did consider splitting this into two parts but because of how the story itself is, that wouldn't have made much sense<br/>anyway, this took quite the long time to write but i enjoyed the process immensely and i'm really happy with how it turned out, so i hope you enjoy the end result!<br/>title from Enchanted by Taylor Swift</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>present day</strong>
</p>
<p>Beca Mitchell had claimed her whole life that she wasn’t a sentimental person. She never did the trip-down-memory-lane, my-life-flashing-randomly-before-my-eyes thing. Maybe because for many years, she hadn’t had anything major to look back to; nothing for which she would be overwhelmingly thankful for.</p>
<p>Don’t take her wrong- Beca wasn’t an ungrateful person and never had been. But you know those moments, those absolutely and strikingly normal moments, when you’re doing something completely mundane, swept up in a scene almost identical to a hundred others before it; and suddenly your chest swells up, feeling too tight to contain all your gratitude for what fate –or the stars, or a higher power, or whatever- has brought across your path?</p>
<p>Beca had watched it happen what felt like a thousand times in movies through the years; and she always rolled her eyes at the notion that that was a real thing that real people went through in their real lives. Somewhere deep inside she couldn’t help but also wonder, though.</p>
<p>Could it be real?</p>
<p>How could it?</p>
<p>And if it was… what did it feel like? What prompted it?</p>
<p>Why had <em>she</em> never experienced it?</p>
<p>Because Beca Mitchell had spent years not having anything major to be grateful for. But it had also been years since she actually had so much, a whole wondrous world of her own, to be grateful for.</p>
<p>So she wondered sometimes, in quiet moments when the tranquility around her allowed for her mind to venture in such a direction; she wondered and she questioned and she secretly hoped for the experience.</p>
<p>“What has that cup of coffee ever done to you?”</p>
<p>The melodic voice, no matter the low, soft tone, had her almost jumping off her seat; absurdly disoriented, her gaze abandoned the dark surface of her now lukewarm coffee she had been apparently staring at and focused back to the rest of her surroundings.</p>
<p>Right.</p>
<p>She wasn’t in some abstract world, outside of time and space. She was sitting in their kitchen, she had been for who knows how long, her coffee cup clutched between her palms, the sweet smell of cinnamon permitting the air; and a pair of more than familiar blues staring back at her.</p>
<p>It was half amusement half tenderness that she found shining in Chloe’s eyes, with just a hint of concern around the edges. She could see it in those tiny, barely visible wrinkles that had formed recently around her eyes, and in the slight crease of her brow.</p>
<p>She could even see it in her soft half smile, as familiar and as comforting as always but with just the barest tinge of worried curiosity in how the dimple on her left cheek hadn’t fully made its appearance.</p>
<p>She could see it in how Chloe kept wiping her hands on her light pink apron, absentmindedly and –Beca was sure- for far longer than it was necessary to dry them.</p>
<p>She was magnetized for a short moment by the repeated action; by the smooth movements of those hands that had taken her own long ago and had not let go since.</p>
<p>Which in and of itself was the most wondrous, the most unbelievably lucky thing to have ever happened to her. How can a single person, amongst the billions that exist in the world, offer you a whole new world all on their own?</p>
<p>Then again, she had discovered years ago, Chloe Beale was nothing less than magic; the most radiant ray of warm light manifested into a human soul. And somehow- miraculously and unbelievably- hers.</p>
<p>“Bec?”</p>
<p>Pulled from –yet another- reverie, Beca’s eyes shot up to meet Chloe’s again; getting lost in them instantly. That was nothing new, though.</p>
<p>She could see the silent question reflected back at her; shaking her head gently she allowed for a soft, natural smile to blossom on her lips.</p>
<p>“I’m okay, Chlo”.</p>
<p>“Are you sure?”</p>
<p>Chloe always asked. No matter the years and the place they had now reached, silent communication and sensing each other’s mood and being so attuned to each other, Chloe always checked one more time.</p>
<p>Just to be sure.</p>
<p>Just to be absolutely positive she didn’t have to sweep in and offer whatever it was that Beca may be needing.</p>
<p>“Yeah”, Beca replied after a beat; voice low and hoarse but heard clearly in their quiet, sunlit kitchen. “Yeah, I am. I have <em>you</em>”.</p>
<p>She watched Chloe, all fiery curls and sparkling eyes and vibrant color, take a small breath; seemingly holding it for a short moment.</p>
<p>Her hands having finally stilled, eyes boring into hers.</p>
<p>There was stillness all of a sudden, but not the bad kind.</p>
<p>The kind that is physical and observable, but mostly emotional; allowing for the out of nowhere rising wave inside Beca’s heart to gently wash over the shore. Caressing the hundreds of small pebbles with the softest touch and submerging them in a warm embrace.</p>
<p>And under the surface of the crystal blue waters –the same hue as those eyes that had become her safe harbor what felt like a whole lifetime, a universe of moments, ago- the pebbles were shaken and dislodged by the gentle but insistent force; they started shifting and rearranging and before she knew it- Beca found herself floating in places past, places made suddenly as clear as the waters that carried her there.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong>year 1</strong>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“I’m so glad that I met you. I think that we’re gonna be really fast friends”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Yeah. Well you saw me naked, so…”</em>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <em>“You guys waited up for me?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Of course we waited up for you”</em>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>Beca flopped onto her back in her bed, a frustrated sigh escaping her lips along with a mumbled curse. A huff later she had pulled her covers right over her head, hoping beyond hope that-</p>
<p>Nope.</p>
<p>There it was again, that persistent knocking on her dorm room door that had woken her up in the first place. Throwing the covers away, Beca blew a stray strand of hair away from her face.</p>
<p>A brief glance at her night table told her it was barely 9am. Which was to say, 9 o’clock. In the morning. On a Saturday. Beca was absolutely not a morning person. And there it was again- <em>the knocking</em>.</p>
<p>Letting out a disgruntled groan she got up and headed for the door, rolling her eyes indignantly at the ever present obnoxious knocking. Wasn’t there some rule, some common decency thing, that said you can’t go around knocking on people’s doors so early on a weekend? Or had she made the impression that such behavior would be allowed and welcome where she was concerned?</p>
<p>Her hand was on the doorknob when the knocking sounded again; having reached the end of her patience three knocks ago, Beca rolled her eyes again and twisted her wrist, pulling open the door with more force than strictly necessary.</p>
<p>“What the fuck do you-“ she had already started asking, voice rising with every word; but then her words died on her tongue upon seeing who was standing on the other side of the door.</p>
<p>Because of course.</p>
<p>Who else would it have been? Who else would have defied her wrath and come knocking on her door <em>at 9am on a Saturday</em>?</p>
<p>“Hi!”, Chloe greeted her, all chipper and smiley and basically bouncing on the spot; and Beca groaned because for fuck’s sake, it was too early to deal with…that. All of that.</p>
<p>“Dude. What are you doing here so early?”</p>
<p>She shouldn’t have found the confused look that spread then on Chloe’s face as endearing as she did- or, you know. At all- but there she was. And instead of feeling her frustration rising as it would with anyone else, she felt it melting away.</p>
<p>Thawing like hopeless snowflakes upon the first soft touch of the morning sun.</p>
<p>“It’s 9am”, Chloe supplied, totally unhelpfully; Beca knew what time it was, and her arched eyebrow said as much. She watched Chloe’s glossed, rosy lips form a small ‘o’ and her shoulders slumping a little bit.</p>
<p>“It’s okay”, she reassured, much more gently than she would have expected from herself; the instinct to do so taking her aback for a second.</p>
<p>The small smile that spread on Chloe’s lips was- strangely- reward enough though, and she decided not to dwell on her own weird behavior. Whatever. She was still half- asleep.</p>
<p>“Here”, Chloe extended her arms, offering Beca what looked like a plate covered with a colorful, almost-too-bright-to-look-at towel. Beca took it mechanically, and carefully lifted one side of it to take a peek.</p>
<p>“It’s cinnamon rolls!” Chloe exclaimed happily just as the sweet and rather inviting scent invaded Beca’s senses. “I always bake a whole bunch the weekend before the holidays start, and I thought I’d bring you some!”</p>
<p>Beca’s eyes shot up at that, meeting those sparkling blues again.</p>
<p>“But this is the weekend <em>after</em> the holidays”, she pointed out matter-of-factly; and, to her surprise, she watched a light pink tint coloring Chloe’s cheeks.</p>
<p>“Yes, yes, I know, but I was back home then so I couldn’t exactly stop by your room since it would have been a multiple hour drive here and back, so I thought bringing some as soon as I came back would have to do!”, Chloe adorably rambled on.</p>
<p>Beca hadn’t even realized how every rushed word, how the flushed stream of reasoning, was slowly pulling at the corners of her lips.</p>
<p>“You mean to tell me”, she asked slowly once Chloe had stopped talking, “that these”, she raised the plate she was holding to emphasize her words, “are two weeks old?”</p>
<p>“Oh my God, no!”</p>
<p>Beca couldn’t help but chuckle quietly at her panicked tone; a reaction that, curiously, had even more color rushing to Chloe’s cheeks.</p>
<p>Beca wasn’t complaining. It was a good look on her. Another thought that she had no intention of trying to understand where it had come from.</p>
<p>“I baked some this morning before I left home”, Chloe explained. It took Beca a few seconds to realize what she’d heard.</p>
<p>“You baked these this morning”. It wasn’t a question but Chloe nodded anyway.</p>
<p>“And then drove multiple hours to get here”. Another not-question. Another nod.</p>
<p>“Dude”, Beca said then; a strong hint of incredulity coloring her tone. “Did you sleep <em>at all</em> last night?”</p>
<p>This time it wasn’t a nod she was met with, but rather a small shoulder shrug and a soft smile. Transfixed momentarily by the brief appearance of a dimple on Chloe’s left cheek- and a strange fluttering in her stomach- she almost didn’t hear her next words.</p>
<p>“Just thought you should have some, even though the holidays are basically over”, Chloe supplied; as if that explained anything. “Anyway, I gotta go! Haven’t been to my room yet, I came straight here; so enjoy, and I’ll see you tomorrow at rehearsal!”</p>
<p>A small wave of her hand and a swirl of red curls later Chloe was already gone. It took Beca several more seconds to get back into her room and close the door behind her; plate held securely in her hands.</p>
<p>Beca Mitchell wasn’t a big sweets person. Two days later, though, she found herself being quite bummed out that she had already gone through the whole plate.</p>
<p>And despite the fact that she had returned it to Chloe soon after that, she could have sworn her room had kept smelling like cinnamon for the rest of the year.</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <em>“I love you awesome nerds”</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong>year 2</strong>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“ Love you Bec, have a good day today”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“I um, yeah. You too”</em>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>Beca pushed the front door of the Bella house closed with her foot, doing her best to ignore how her arms had started to burn, as she heaved the two overflowing grocery store bags straight into the kitchen and on the kitchen aisle. Man, she really needed to pick up her workout if carrying two bags a few dozen feet from her car to the house had that kind of effect on her.</p>
<p>“Oh good, good! You brought the things!”</p>
<p>A year and a half later, Beca still had trouble sometimes dealing with the bubble of bouncing excitement that was Chloe Beale. Of course, she had figured out by now that there was so much more to Chloe than that, a million small and big things that made her up. It was fascinating, really, how her bubbliness didn’t even begin to scratch the surface of who she was.</p>
<p>Besides- and Beca wouldn never voluntarily disclose this information, no matter how she suspected Chloe had already figured it out regardless- she had grown to be quite fond of all that fiery energy; it was adorable, and weirdly heart-warming.</p>
<p>It had become a constant in her life, and Beca loved those.</p>
<p>There was a stability in how Chloe was that she could depend on to be there every time they met or, as of the beginning of that year, every time she came back to the house after a long day.</p>
<p>A house that still felt a bit foreign, like a piece of clothing that wouldn’t sit right on her shoulders no matter how many times she adjusted it.</p>
<p>So it was nice, and more than a little comforting, having that constant.</p>
<p>Having Chloe.</p>
<p>“Yes”, she nodded as she watched Chloe already rummaging through the paper bags and pulling out all kinds of packets and cans; not really fighting to contain her half amused half affectionate smile.</p>
<p>How could she not smile when Chloe’s eyes were shining brighter than she had seen them do in days, happiness radiating off of her in warm waves; it was almost as if there was a certain kind of subtle glow about her.</p>
<p>A glow that followed the shape of her wild curls, now pulled up in a messy bun, the line of her jaw and the column of her neck, fitting like a glove around all her soft curves-</p>
<p>Beca cleared her throat and shifted awkwardly on the spot.</p>
<p>“Do you have everything you need?”</p>
<p>“Seems like it!” came Chloe’s excited reply, and Beca felt herself instantly relax again. “I’ll start the first phase right away and I’ll finish up tomorrow morning, of course!”</p>
<p>“Of course”, Beca deadpanned, and Chloe’s small giggle and playful eye-roll had a quiet chuckle falling from her lips.</p>
<p>Moments like this, when Chloe just existed around her, only the two of them, when nothing else mattered but the simple contentment of being; they felt more and more like they had been happening her whole life.</p>
<p>She realized a moment too late that Chloe was saying something, so she met her expectant gaze with a slightly confused one.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry, didn’t catch that”, she said, mentally ordering her face to chill out and not dare heat up under any circumstances whatsoever, “can you say it again?”</p>
<p>“We’re gonna watch a movie with the girls in about an hour”, Chloe offered simply, voice much quieter than before, Beca noticed, “and I was wondering if you’d like to join us? There’s gonna be pizza!”</p>
<p>It was clear as day, really; not even Beca could deny how much hope she would actually join them was sparkling in Chloe’s eyes as she kept them trained on hers. It was becoming more and more difficult with each day that passed, the thought fleetingly crossed her mind, saying no to Chloe.</p>
<p>“I think I’ll just turn in early tonight”, she heard herself replying. “It was a kinda hard day and I’m not really up for socializing”, she rushed to explain as she watched the spark of hope flicker and vanish from Chloe’s gaze.</p>
<p>“It’s okay”, Chloe reassured immediately, a small, genuine smile stretching on her lips. “Next time”.</p>
<p>She rarely joined; and Chloe always said that, same amount of understanding in her tone.</p>
<p>Beca only managed to nod wordlessly, and a few moments after Chloe started rummaging through the paper bags again she slipped quietly out of the kitchen; avoiding the living room and the tangled mess of happy voices and laughter she could hear coming from it, she climbed the stairs all the way to her (and Amy’s) room.</p>
<p>The small voice in the back of her head that kept insisting she should have joined the Bellas in their movie night kept her company well into her dreams.</p>
<p>The next morning Beca woke up to the smell of cinnamon permitting the air, growing stronger the more she approached the kitchen; it was encompassing all her senses by the time she was sitting behind the kitchen aisle, cup of hot coffee provided by Chloe held between her palms.</p>
<p>Beca wasn’t one for small talk; she got bored and annoyed quickly by the meaninglessness of it all. And yet, couple of hours later on that lazy Suday morning, when the sounds of the rest of the Bellas waking up reached her, she realized she could easily spend two hours more doing just that.</p>
<p>Sitting in their kitchen, chatting with Chloe about all the small nothings and everythings their lives consisted of, slowly sipping at her coffee; and inhaling deeply every once in a while. Allowing the smell of cinnamon and comfort and home fill her heart with a warmth she hadn’t admitted she’d been missing until now.</p>
<p>She wasn’t sure if she’d ever even had it.</p>
<p>But now she did.</p>
<p>And it was the easiest thing in the world to smile back at Chloe over the lid of her cup as she brought it to her lips, taking another small sip.</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <em>“Love you Bec, have an awesome day and don’t forget, practice is at six!”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“I’ll be there Chlo. Love you too”</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong>year 4</strong>
</p>
<p>Beca hurried into the kitchen, tugging at the sleeve of her red leather jacket- how people managed to put on clothes properly when rushing to get ready she’d never understand- her bag precariously hung on her left shoulder. Muttering a string of curses she finally managed to slip her arm through the unreasonably uncooperative piece of fabric- honestly!- immediately making a beeline for the coffee maker.</p>
<p>“Thank God”, she mumbled at the sight of the half full pot; it hadn’t been a rare occurrence in the three years she’d spent so far in the Bella house for her to discover it devastatingly empty.</p>
<p>Not this time though. And as she pulled a random mug from the shelf, not even noticing which one, Beca sincerely thanked any and all higher powers for small miracles.</p>
<p>Letting out a small breath she raised the now full mug to her lips; taking the first sip always brought forth such a wave of joy she had started suspecting she may have developed a slight caffeine addiction.</p>
<p>Whatever. She’d survive. Coffee made her happy and she wasn’t going to start questioning one of the few things that still did that, amidst the highly stressful year she’d been having.</p>
<p>Humming quietly to herself she inhaled deeply, the soothing smell of freshly brewed coffee fully invading her senses. What felt like the first small smile she’d worn in days started growing on her lips, before she realized coffee wasn’t the only thing she could smell.</p>
<p>Cinnamon. Okay. Wait- cinnamon?</p>
<p>Perplexed, Beca turned around on the spot; intent to discover the source of the strong, although not unpleasant, scent. Instead, she found herself staring straight into partly amused partly something she couldn’t really identify –or had the time to- warm pools of the clearest blue.</p>
<p>Chloe was standing right by the oven, hip resting against the counter, arms crossed loosely; her light pink apron neatly tied around her waist, vibrant red curls held up in a messy bun. There was something just so familiar, so grounding in the picture in front of her that it sent something small but sharp piercing right through her heart.</p>
<p>“In such a rush so early on a Saturday morning”, Chloe teased good naturedly; a small half smile dancing on her lips.</p>
<p>There was also something else in her tone, though. Buried deep and carefully concealed, but Beca still heard it. She had been Chloe Beale’s friend- best friend- for too many years not to. Worst part was, she knew instantly what it was.</p>
<p>Questions. Chloe had questions, and understandably so. Beca had been distracted since the school year had started, rushing out of the house at hours not suspicious by themselves but in a way that certainly was. Besides, Chloe had Beca’s course schedule memorized; even on weekdays, she knew it wasn’t a lesson Beca was hurrying to.</p>
<p>“Yeah, I… Um, well-“ Beca cut herself off, unsure what to say exactly. It wasn’t like she needed an excuse to go out. But she couldn’t tell the truth either. Not to Chloe.</p>
<p>Even though Chloe had always been the person Beca wanted to tell all her truths to.</p>
<p>It was so fucking complicated, and Beca didn’t like complicated. She didn’t do complicated.</p>
<p>She had no reason to get frustrated at that moment, early on a Saturday morning with the comforting scent of fresh coffee and warm cinnamon wafting all around the familiar space; with the most familiar person only a few feet away.</p>
<p>Or maybe that was the reason.</p>
<p>“I’m meeting with Jesse”, she offered at the end, tone colder than she had intended it to be. For a split second she hoped it wouldn’t reach Chloe; but of course it did. She saw it in how Chloe’s smile dimmed, a quick flash of hurt passing behind her still gentle blues.</p>
<p>Of course it would.</p>
<p>Chloe could almost always pick up even on the tiniest shifts in her mood. Which was… Ugh. Beca huffed, shaking her head at herself.</p>
<p>So fucking complicated.</p>
<p>Taking a deep breath, she returned her gaze to Chloe’s; trying to control the sudden flare of frustration she was feeling she picked her brain for anything- literally anything- she could say.</p>
<p>Normal. She could act normal, for fuck’s sake.</p>
<p>“What are you baking?” was what her brain landed on, her earlier question resurfacing.</p>
<p>“Neither the smell nor the day gave it away?” Chloe questioned right back; her attempt at humor reaching Beca half hearted and strained.</p>
<p>Beca hated that. Dampening Chloe’s spirits; now <em>that</em> was a capital offense, and exactly what she had done.</p>
<p>“It’s cinnamon rolls”, Chloe provided quietly after a beat with a small shrug of one shoulder.</p>
<p>And Beca felt a stronger urge to facepalm than she had in a very long while- which said something.</p>
<p>“It’s the weekend before Christmas holidays start”, she stated dumbly. Had she been that distracted, that detached from reality, that she had completely lost the ability to connect even the simplest of dots?</p>
<p>“Yeah”, Chloe nodded; her smile growing just the smallest bit. It wasn’t a happy smile, not really.</p>
<p>It was hope that Beca saw glistening across Chloe’s lips along with her strawberry gloss; that lifted the corners of her lips and almost made that small dimple on her left cheek appear. That returned some of her signature spark, an unmistakable manifestation of light, in her eyes.</p>
<p>And Beca found herself smiling fully now; so aware, suddenly, of the beating heart inside her chest, of the clothes on her shoulders; of the strange and yet all too familiar tingling on her fingertips.</p>
<p>“Will you save me some? I’ll be back about an hour after lunchtime”.</p>
<p>It was a wonder all on its own, how Chloe’s quiet chuckle and soft nod chased away all of her frustration and stress in one fell swoop; dispersing in the four corners of her mind like a flock of birds chased away by a gunshot.</p>
<p>A gunshot that kept reverberating through her bloodstream long after she’d left the house; that never really went away even in the quietest of hours and the busiest of days.</p>
<p>Just like she swore she could smell cinnamon all around the house all year round.</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <em>“What’s so wrong about being focused on the Bellas? This has been my family for seven years!”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Yeah, because you’re too scared to leave! Suck up, dude!”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Okay, so you’ve been lying to us for the entire year and now you’re just gonna flake out? Now you’re gonna flake out when the Worlds is like, right after graduation?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Oh my God, enough about the Worlds! I can’t- I’m out of here”.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Oh okay, you’re just gonna leave now, you’re just-”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“We’ll all have to eventually Chloe, it might as well be now!”</em>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>“<em>You know, when I look back on this I won’t remember performing and competing; I’m gonna remember you weirdos”.</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong>years 5-7</strong>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Looks like we’re gonna have to share a bed! Think of all the sleepovers, Bec!”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“They won’t really be- Yeah, anyway. Will be fun”.</em>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>“Chlo, I’m home!”</p>
<p>Beca threw her keys haphazardly on the little table to her left as she shoved the door closed with her foot, arms full with three overflowing grocery store bags. Shaking her head to get rid of the remaining snowflakes in her hair, she considered just walking to the kitchen and setting the bags down before taking her boots off.</p>
<p>Boots she knew were probably all dirty from the stepped on snow she had to traverse through- she’d never admit how many times she’d almost fallen on her ass in the hour it had taken her to get to the grocery store and back. But she digressed.</p>
<p>Dirty boots. Walking all over the house- or shoe box sized apartment more like. But still.</p>
<p>Chloe would kill her.</p>
<p>Huffing a defeated breath she started attempting to take them off without using her hands. A couple of minutes and three more almost falls later she finally managed it; and right as her arms had started to really ache by holding the bags for too long.</p>
<p>With a long sigh, Beca covered the small distance from their front door to the kitchen, trying to shake a few fallen strands of hair out of her face. Unceremoniously dropping the unreasonably heavy- she hadn’t even gotten that much stuff!- bags on the kitchen counter, she took a deep breath.</p>
<p>It was then that it fully hit her, and she had no idea how she hadn’t realized earlier; cinnamon.</p>
<p>It was the weekend before Christmas. Living with Chloe Beale, it was perfectly normal to be smelling it around the house that time of the year.</p>
<p>What wasn’t normal was how incredibly, almost painfully, rich the smell was. Beca had no idea how that could even happen; that’s not a real thing, getting close to teary eyed by an otherwise pleasant smell because of how overwhelmingly <em>there</em> it is.</p>
<p>And yet…</p>
<p>It was then that Beca registered something else as she took a curious look around; smoke. Not too much of it, but there was clearly enough to be visible in the tiny kitchen. Alarmed, she looked around more carefully. She couldn’t spot anything burning- thank God.</p>
<p>Now the question was- what the fuck had happened?</p>
<p>Quite confused and more than slightly concerned, she headed over to the small window. Pushing it open half heartedly she immediately shivered at the freezing air that lost no time in invading the perfectly warm and cozy space. Cozy apart from the smoke. And the overwhelming cinnamon smell.</p>
<p>What the fuck had-</p>
<p>“Chloe?” Beca called out as she turned to face the rest of their tiny apartment once more. “Chloe?” she called out again when there was no answer.</p>
<p>This was ridiculous. She’d left her right here an hour ago, only to come back to smoke and a fucking cinnamon extravaganza; and no Chloe. Her eyes scanned the small space carefully. Nothing.</p>
<p>“Chloe!”</p>
<p>“In here”, a small, weirdly muffled voice finally answered her then. Beca tilted her head confusedly. It was coming from…</p>
<p>She allowed her feet to carry her the few feet necessary until she was standing in front of the closed shower curtain. What even-</p>
<p>“Chlo?”</p>
<p>“Yeah”, came the, again, muffled reply.</p>
<p>“Are you…” Beca didn’t know what to make of the situation she’d found herself in. “Are you taking a shower?”</p>
<p>A really stupid question considering she couldn’t hear any running water. But then again, what was she supposed to think?</p>
<p>“No”.</p>
<p>Okay, this was ridiculous.</p>
<p>“Chlo”, Beca started, as gently as she could in her growing frustration and worry, fingers already curling around the edge of the curtain, “can I open this?”</p>
<p>“Yeah”.</p>
<p>She didn’t need more of a confirmation to pull the curtain slowly open and look inside. She’d thought she was prepared, and yet she wasn’t; not for finding Chloe- fully dressed, thank the powers above- curled up inside the bathtub, tears trickling down her face, eyes red rimmed and swollen, looking up at her; gaze watery, with sadness swimming in those sky colored pools of warmth Beca never wanted to see in any state other than sparkling with all the good things the world had to offer.</p>
<p>Because that was the least Chloe deserved.</p>
<p>Without thinking about it, almost on instinct, Beca kneeled down right beside the bathtub; eyes never leaving Chloe’s. The little sniff in the short moment it took her to do so pierced right through her heart.</p>
<p>“Hey”, she greeted softly once she was on the floor; one side of her lips involuntarily lifting up in a gentle half smile. She couldn’t help it. Current circumstances aside, she was still around Chloe Beale.</p>
<p>“Hey”.</p>
<p>Chloe’s slight rasp from all the crying was evident in the small word, and Beca could feel a suspicious fluttering in her stomach. She pushed it down decisively.</p>
<p>“What happened, Chlo?”</p>
<p>She watched Chloe bite her bottom lip, another tear trickling down her flushed cheek; it took everything Beca had in her not to reach over and wipe it away.</p>
<p>“I burned them”, came the quiet reply.</p>
<p>Beca was ready to ask for some clarification, before her brain finally connected the dots.</p>
<p>Cinnamon rolls. Right. That made sense.</p>
<p>Many questions popped up in her mind right then, but one look at Chloe’s face had her pushing them all away. Maybe later.</p>
<p>For now…</p>
<p>One hand slowly reaching inside the bathtub, Beca found Chloe’s hand with her own; interlacing their fingers and squeezing gently. It took a few seconds, but Chloe squeezed back.</p>
<p>And the smile grew on Beca’s face as effortlessly as breathing was.</p>
<p>“We’ll make more”, she offered quietly, her commitment in her words underlined by a small nod of her head.</p>
<p>A short moment of silence dissented upon them then; eyes locked on each other’s, breathing in sync as Chloe calmed down fully, hands clasped together.</p>
<p>And although no music was playing, that’s exactly how Beca would describe that moment in her heart later; that’s how it felt. Like music.</p>
<p>She didn’t want to break that moment, while simultaneously the urge to break it grew and grew inside her.</p>
<p>It was Chloe who finally did.</p>
<p>“Okay”, she agreed quietly; and the small smile that was now flickering on her lips had something in Beca’s heart clicking back into place.</p>
<p>The other little part of her heart, the one that kept constantly getting paper thin and yet painful cuts from the sharp edges of the words ‘best friends’ she averted her eyes from.</p>
<p>Chloe was okay. They would be okay.</p>
<hr/>
<p>“<em>Yeah, I suddenly have a lot of free time, so. Hell yeah”.</em></p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <em>“We have separate rooms, we don’t have to sleep on top of each other anymore!”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“What?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Um, not sexually. There was that one time”.</em>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <em>“Why are we hiding?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“I don’t know”.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Dude, what- What is this about?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“What are you guys doing?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Nothing!”</em>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <em>“I gotta go show this guy how it’s done”.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong>year 8</strong>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“It’s just hard sometimes, you know? You there, me here… And I’m so mad at the universe, so fucking mad”.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“I know, Chlo, I know”.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Yeah. I just…”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“I know, baby. It’s gonna be okay, I promise. We’re gonna be okay”.</em>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>“You’re gonna go out with friends?”</p>
<p>Beca hated how the question had just sounded. She didn’t want to be this person. She wasn’t this person.</p>
<p>And yet here she was.</p>
<p>Judging from how Chloe’s face had fallen and the light in her eyes had dimmed in the space of a few seconds, she’d heard the change in Beca’s tone too.</p>
<p>Fuck.</p>
<p>Beca ran a hand through her hair, huffing out a breath; becoming frustrated with herself had become a common occurrence lately.</p>
<p>“Yeah, I… a couple friends from my anatomy class invited me over for coffee after class. I said I’d stop by later, so we… so we at least had some time to talk”.</p>
<p>Beca clenched her jaw; she hated how timid and unsure Chloe sounded. This wasn’t- She wasn’t trying to- Fucking hell.</p>
<p>“You should have gone after your lesson was over”, she said, trying to contain her frustration as much as she could. Yeah she probably sounded as cold to Chloe as she sounded to her own ears, but at least she wasn’t snapping at her. Right?</p>
<p>“Bec…”</p>
<p>Chloe trailing off, saying nothing more than the affectionate nickname; it somehow worsened the state of her rapidly thinning patience even further. She could almost picture the rubber band inside her head stretching uncomfortably; or rather, herself standing on ominously creaking wooden boards.</p>
<p>Yeah, she knew it didn’t make much sense but that’s how she felt; and god damnit, she was tired. So tired.</p>
<p>Meeting Chloe’s eyes again through her phone screen, facetime call still going despite the tense silence that kept expanding between them, she offered a small, forced smile.</p>
<p>“It’s fine”.</p>
<p>“Baby-“</p>
<p>“No, it’s fine”, Beca insisted dryly; she could feel the boards under her feet giving out as she spoke. She wouldn’t let them. “We’ve been thousands of miles apart for three months until now, and we’ll keep being apart for who knows how much longer with how they keep adding dates to this fucking tour, but it’s okay. You wanna go out with friends. It’s fine”.</p>
<p>“Bec it’s not like we haven’t been talking. The first month was hard but we figured out our schedule, and now-“</p>
<p>“Now what?” Beca interrupted; a loud creak from the wooden boards almost making her flinch. It didn’t stop her, though. “Oh, so you’re satisfied with the amount of time we spend talking over the internet? Maybe it’s too much for you, even?”</p>
<p>“No baby, that’s not what I meant. I just-“</p>
<p>“Whatever”.</p>
<p>Beca couldn’t do this. It hurt, so deep inside that she had no idea those places even existed until not so long ago; until Chloe and her had become more. Until she had become Chloe’s, and Chloe hers.</p>
<p>It just- Time was never enough. How could it be? And the fucking distance, and the timezones, and the different schedules- Beca was so fucking tired.</p>
<p>“I don’t care”. She cared so fucking much. “Go meet your friends”. No, don’t go. Please. A little more time.</p>
<p>“Baby, come on”. The pleading in Chloe’s tone and the way her eyes had started shining with moisture was the final straw. Beca audibly groaned, running her fingers through her hair again.</p>
<p>“What do you want me to tell you, Chloe? How do you want me to act? Tell me and I’ll do it”. I don’t want to be fucking selfish with you, I don’t, I swear.</p>
<p>She watched Chloe building up to more words, more explanations, more reasons; she didn’t want them. She couldn’t. Not now.</p>
<p>“Go. Just- Just go”.</p>
<p>The way Chloe pursed her lips, the way she tilted her head just the tiniest bit to the side, the way her breathing had become slightly faster; Beca registered it all in a single second. And she hated it. Upsetting Chloe, hurting her… She was so done with the fuck up her self was.</p>
<p>But she was entitled to her feelings, right? She was allowed to get hurt and upset as well, and not to have to suppress that and pretend, right? She was allowed to get frustrated, she was allowed to get mad; right?</p>
<p>Right? Right.</p>
<p>“I’ll talk to you when I talk to you”. Please don’t be gone for long. Please come back to me. “Bye”.</p>
<p>A trembling finger pressed the red button with more force than necessary and Chloe’s face vanished from her screen. That didn’t mean the sight of her, hurt eyes and tight lips and drawn face, vanished from her mind, though.</p>
<p>If anything, it had become even clearer now; the silence in her hotel room so deafening Beca actually flinched this time.</p>
<p>“Fuck!” she exclaimed loudly, her clenched fist banging forcefully against the hard surface of the wooden desk she was sitting behind.</p>
<p>Why couldn’t Chloe just stay? It was so fucking unfair.</p>
<p>The circumstances, the timing, the world.</p>
<p>Chloe to Beca. Beca to Chloe.</p>
<p>Beca pressed her fingers against her eyes harshly; bright spots exploding behind her closed eyelids almost instantly. It was okay, though. They helped battle the stinging at the back of her eyes. They helped.</p>
<p>Nothing really did.</p>
<p>Fuck.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <strong>[ pov change]</strong>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chloe kept staring at her screen long after the call had disconnected.</p>
<p>Or at least that’s how it felt, shaky inhales and exhales accompanying the uncomfortable quiet in her tiny New York apartment.</p>
<p>Their apartment. it had always been that way, and it always would be.</p>
<p>Taking a deep steadying breath, Chloe got up from the worn pull-out bed and headed for the kitchen. A cold glass of water later she was feeling slightly better. Slightly.</p>
<p>Allowing her eyes to travel around the small space, gaze gently skimming over every surface, she swallowed down the lump in her throat.</p>
<p>She understood; god, did she understand. Such different schedules and hours and circumstances that no matter how many friend hangouts she skipped, how much personal time she passed on, how much stuff she tried to fit in the hours Beca was sleeping or working… it was never enough.</p>
<p>How could it be?</p>
<p>It angered her at times; she knew it was unfair of Beca to be like that with her. It wasn’t the first time.</p>
<p>A long sigh escaped Chloe’s lips, eyes closing tiredly.</p>
<p>It was unfair, but then again what wasn’t?</p>
<p>She understood. Was she wrong? No. Was Beca wrong? No. A stalemate of rights and wants and needs, and much less time than either could possibly give the other.</p>
<p>Because Chloe knew, and she reminded herself often, it wasn’t about the time in the first place; not really. A small, sad smile grew on her lips, eyes finally landing on the plate of freshly baked cinnamon rolls on the table.</p>
<p>It was about being together but unable to share a space; to physically exist together and explore in person this thing they had both being secretly wanting for so long. It was about being apart, simple as that.</p>
<p>She hadn’t even realized she had been gently rubbing the spot right over her heart; there was a dull ache there that never really went away. Even when things between Beca and her weren’t strained.</p>
<p>Yeah it hurt more when they weren’t okay. But it hurt anyway.</p>
<p>Fucking timezones. Fucking life.</p>
<p>Chloe pursed her lips and inhaled slowly; steadily. A deep breath that filled her lungs with air and her heart with hope. Because for as long as she breathed, things would be okay. They’d find their way. She’d make sure of it.</p>
<p>She knew Beca lost her hope sometimes, and that was okay. Chloe had enough hope for the both of them. Just how Beca was her rock when she lost her hope in turn.</p>
<p>A firm nod of her head and a minute later she had retrieved her phone and returned beside the sweet smelling plate, the sight of the still hot from the oven rolls making it impossible for a small, genuine this time, smile not to grow on her lips.</p>
<p>She carefully snapped a picture and opened her text thread with Beca; contemplating for a short moment, she shook her head to herself, pulled up the photo, and pressed send.</p>
<p>Today, 15:03</p>
<p>[image_0578]</p>
<p>Today, 15:05</p>
<p>
  <em>got them out of the oven just before we started our call. our home smells so much like cinnamon we may have needed to crack open a window</em>
</p>
<p>Today, 15:08</p>
<p>
  <em>i’m sorry my love</em>
</p>
<p>                                                                                          <em>Bec</em></p>
<p>Today, 16:29</p>
<p>
  <em>                                                                                I’m sorry too</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>                                                                                I’m so sorry chlo</em>
</p>
<p>                                                                                          Today, 16:32</p>
<p>                                                  <em>they turned out great baby. save me some?</em></p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <strong>year 9</strong>
</p>
<p>Chloe stretched her tired limbs, a small yawn escaping her as she felt the comfortable coolness of the sheets against her bare skin. Eyes still closed she turned to her right side, arm gently wrapping around an equally bare waist.</p>
<p>It’s involuntary really, how the corners of her lips lifted to a content smile, how her heart swelled and fluttered, and how she just had to shuffle closer; flush against the warm body next to her.</p>
<p>Because Beca was finally home; finally. After a long, hard 14 months she was finally there, with her, in their apartment. After having figured out all the logistics of recording in New York instead of LA, after having yelled at five different execs about how that was perfectly doable, after having meeting after meeting in preparation of her permanent move- it was done.</p>
<p>She was right there next to Chloe and she was there to stay.</p>
<p>Chloe couldn’t help but nuzzle the back of her girlfriend’s neck, pressing a soft careful kiss at the- she knew now- very sensitive spot. She couldn’t help the trail of soft kisses across the exposed bare shoulder in front of her either. How could she?</p>
<p>She didn’t think she would ever get enough of… everything. Everything Beca was. Beca being in the same bed as her and Chloe finally- finally- being able to wake up next to her.</p>
<p>Finally being allowed to touch and kiss every inch of her skin, just like she’d wanted for the longest time.</p>
<p>She hadn’t even realized how she had tightened her arm around Beca’s waist, her palm pressing almost possessively against her stomach, until she felt the body next to her start to stir.</p>
<p>“Someone is very snuggly this morning”.</p>
<p>The sleepy rasp in Beca’s voice had a small shiver running down her spine, and she smiled as she pressed another kiss to her shoulder.</p>
<p>“Can’t help it. My girl is here”.</p>
<p>“Just say you wanna get in my pants again”, Beca shot back immediately; her smirk evident in her tone.</p>
<p>A soft chuckle fell from Chloe’s lips as she pressed herself even closer against Beca’s bare back; gently grazing her teeth against the same patch of warm skin she had been kissing.</p>
<p>“Babe”.</p>
<p>“Hm?”</p>
<p>“You aren’t wearing any pants”.</p>
<p>There was a beat of silence and then Chloe couldn’t contain herself anymore; her giggles muffled as she pressed another gentle kiss to the warm skin of Beca’s shoulder. She could feel her cheeks starting to hurt from the smile that, at this point, seemed to be permanently etched on her face.</p>
<p>She loved every second of it.</p>
<p>Beca’s quiet chuckle was music to her ears, as was the eye roll she could clearly hear- and visualize- in it.</p>
<p>“My girlfriend is such a dork”.</p>
<p>Chloe’s expression softened as she pressed the gentlest kiss she could right over Beca’s pulse point; lingering for a moment. She could feel her heart steadily beating against her lips and she couldn’t help the soft sigh that escaped her.</p>
<p>Even though she had been the one living in their tiny apartment in New York while Beca had been moving around Europe and changing hotel rooms every other night, even though Chloe’s surroundings had remained familiar and unchanging… it was this morning, right there in their bed with Beca in her arms that she finally felt at home.</p>
<p>Feeling a slight sting in the back of her eyes, she took a deep breath, and heard Beca do the same; a smaller hand finding her own where it still rested on Beca’s stomach.</p>
<p>Fingers interlacing. A gentle squeeze.</p>
<p>And Chloe couldn’t help but smile again, nor could she help the small kiss at the back of Beca’s neck.</p>
<p>Because, somehow, Beca always knew.</p>
<p>“Wait, what is that smell?”</p>
<p>It took Chloe a few seconds to register the question, as deeply lost in her reverie as she was. She didn’t have the time to reply once she did because Beca didn’t give her the time to; she turned in Chloe’s arms, back of her head now resting on the pillow and still sleepy gaze finding hers, part incredulous part amused.</p>
<p>“Cinnamon? When would you even-”</p>
<p>Chloe couldn’t help it; she pressed her lips to Beca’s more than inviting ones in a soft, lingering kiss, effectively cutting her off. She felt gentle fingers weave through her tangled up hair, gently gripping, and a soft hum fell from her lips.</p>
<p>“I woke up at dawn and thought that since I was up, I should get them ready for breakfast”, she mumbled against the intoxicatingly familiar lips, before kissing Beca again; her hand coming up to gently cup Beca’s cheek, her thumb immediately starting to rub soothing little circles against it.</p>
<p>It was as she felt Beca smile into the kiss before she deepened it, as she felt her tongue tracing her bottom lip and seeking entrance into her mouth, as she felt Beca’s fingers’ grip in her hair tighten a little and her gently pulling her closer, that Chloe realized; they wouldn’t be eating breakfast yet.</p>
<p>Or any time soon, if she had any say in it.</p>
<p>And as she moved her body so she could settle between Beca’s already spread thighs, lips never leaving hers, she couldn’t be having less of a problem with staying in bed longer; or with the cinnamon rolls growing cold in their small kitchen, their scent wrapped around them both like the softest, most familiar blanket.</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <em>“They’ve grown so cold, Bec, I told you we probably should have skipped that second round”.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Are you complaining right now?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“I’m definitely not complaining, baby”.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Thought so”.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Brat”.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Hey, at least you didn’t burn them this time”.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Shut up!”</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong>years 10-12</strong>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“I can’t believe we finally have a place where the toilet has its own room”.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“And where the bed doesn’t creak”.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Chlo”.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“What? Just saying”.</em>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <em>“I can’t believe we’re finally going, I can’t believe it!”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“I promised you we would”.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“I know, Bec. I’m just so excited!”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“I am, too. Two weeks in Vermont, here we come!”</em>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <em>“You have to wait until after I ask the question, Chlo”.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“I don’t care. I love you so much, I always have. And I always will. So it’s a yes from me”.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Come here, you dork. I love you too. More than anything”.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“I can’t wait to be your wife”.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Me neither, baby. Me neither”.</em>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>Chloe felt her limbs heavy and her head light as she slowly drifted from sleep back to consciousness. There was a bright light somewhere above her, its harshness only making her even more unwilling to force open her eyelids. And yet she knew she had to; there was a strange sense of something unpleasant slowly starting to swirl in the pit of her stomach, intensified by the distinct, strong smell of antiseptic.</p>
<p>A hospital.</p>
<p>It took a lot more effort than usual but she managed to lift her arms from the mattress; enough for her to spread her palms protectively over her belly. It was still big and protruding, and for a couple of seconds a wave of relief washed over her. Until, like rapidly flashing neon lights, memories from the past 24 hours flooded her tired mind.</p>
<p>Her baking cinnamon rolls. Beca making tea. Her water breaking. Beca rushing them to the hospital. Hours and hours and pain and even more hours and then…</p>
<p>Chloe’s eyes snapped open just then, her breathing picking up as she, still quite disoriented, took in her surroundings. Nothing really registered other than her being in a hospital room, bleak apart from many flower arrangements and bouquets; but that didn’t matter right now. She had to make sure- She had to find- Where could-</p>
<p>Eyes still rapidly searching and trying not to panic she turned her head to the side, her cheek on the cool if not a bit rough fabric of the pillow; releasing a slow, relieved breath a moment later.</p>
<p>Because there they were.</p>
<p>There was Beca, sitting back in a rather comfortable looking armchair, hair disheveled and face tired and attention solely focused on the little bundle of light yellow blankets she was holding oh so gently in her arms. She couldn’t make out much of their tiny human other than the smallest profile she had ever seen.</p>
<p>There was a peacefulness radiating off of Beca in gentle waves, and Chloe let out another quiet breath; relaxing against her pillow she allowed herself to fully take in the picture in front of her.</p>
<p>Beca and… their baby. Their baby.</p>
<p>She couldn’t believe they were here. That day at the activities fair; there was something that had shifted, something small and yet impactful, when her eyes had landed on the alt and mysterious- and beautiful- never seen before girl. But she could have never guessed, not in a million years, that this was what life had had in store for them.</p>
<p>That she would ever get so incredibly, fascinatingly lucky.</p>
<p>Chloe watched in wonderment Beca carefully lifting one hand, steady fingers tracing their baby’s cheek in a repeated, gentle caress. She couldn’t see Beca’s eyes because they were downcast, still focused entirely on the new member of their family, but she could see her smile grow; she couldn’t help but smile softly herself. And when a tiny hand gripped tightly at one of her fingers, Chloe felt her heart swell and expand with all the love she had for the two perfect humans in front of her.</p>
<p>And the thought popped up in Chloe’s mind, as she noticed her cell phone right beside her on the nightstand, that maybe she should record this moment; take a picture at least. Because it was special and theirs, and she wanted to never forget it. That’s why people took pictures, right?</p>
<p>She realized then, though, as she watched Beca lightly shake her finger, the baby still gripping at it tightly, before she leaned down to press a feather light kiss to the same cheek she’d been caressing up until a few moments ago, that she didn’t need to.</p>
<p>How could she ever forget this moment? It already felt etched to her heart with the brightest and yet softest colors; all held together by sparkling, warm to the touch golden thread.</p>
<p>Delicate and yet unbreakable.</p>
<p>No, she didn’t need to take a picture. She’d never forget.</p>
<p>Chloe didn’t know exactly what had drawn Beca’s attention to her; maybe she’d let out a louder breath, or maybe she’d felt the intensity of her gaze. Whatever it was, her favorite eyes- stormy blue oceans of familiarity and love- met hers.</p>
<p>And she felt her heart fluttering inside her chest and a lump forming at the back of her throat at the tears she could clearly see swirling in them; at the pure awe reflected back to her.</p>
<p>“Hi”, she breathed, raspy and low. “Is he okay?”</p>
<p>“He’s perfect”, Beca replied after a beat, glancing down at their son before looking back at her. “How are you feeling?”</p>
<p>There was a small smile dancing on her lips the whole time, and Chloe knew the same was true for her. She vaguely registered small aches in various different places; none of that mattered now.</p>
<p>“Perfect. Happy”.</p>
<p>She watched Beca tilting her head slightly to the side, in that adorable way that was all so familiar and so Beca, smile growing on her lips and becoming even softer at the same time.</p>
<p>“You did it, Chlo. We did it”.</p>
<p>Chloe could only nod as Beca’s love washed over her; she could feel it, the full gentle force of it. Knocking the breath out of her lungs as it allowed her heart to inhale deeply. Everything Beca was and had to offer, the wonder that she was, all laid out for her to see. The million different puzzle pieces that made her up clearly visible through those eyes Chloe would gladly get lost into for the rest of time.</p>
<p>Chloe could only nod, a couple warm droplets trickling down her cheeks. She felt Beca’s gaze gently wiping them away before it shifted back to the tiny human in her arms.</p>
<p>“Hi, little buddy. Your mama is awake so maybe we should test out the name we picked for you. How does ‘Noah’ sound to you? Like? Dislike? What do we think?”</p>
<p>A small gargling sound followed by the biggest tiny yawn Chloe had ever seen was their answer; she couldn’t help a quiet, watery chuckle as Beca’s amused eyes met hers again.</p>
<p>“He seems a bit bored by it but all in all I’d say that that was a yes”.</p>
<p>“Definitely”, Chloe agreed, able to hear the smile in her own voice.</p>
<p>And they remained like that, staring at each other, for a moment that felt suspended in time. Bright eyes and soft smiles and the scent of cinnamon wafting all around them.</p>
<p>“I love you, Chlo”, Beca eventually all but whispered; accompanying her words with a small half shrug that had Chloe’s heart fluttering once again.</p>
<p>“I love you too, Bec”.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong>years 13-16</strong>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“What if this happens again? What if I-”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Hey no Chlo, come here. It’s not gonna keep happening, it was… We’ve got all the time in the world to try again. One step at a time”.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“This shouldn’t have happened, Bec”.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“I know, I know. But we’ll be okay. You’ll see”.</em>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>The lukewarm water was splashing onto her hands with just enough force to have tiny droplets meet her light pink apron every few seconds; the glass in her hands clean as of at least a couple minutes ago.</p>
<p>And yet there Chloe was, eyes blankly staring at the steady stream of water as she kept slowly washing that same glass; hands repeating the same motions with the sponge over and over as she kept standing at the sink, back turned to the rest of the kitchen.</p>
<p>“Mama, mama!”</p>
<p>The excited squeal, accompanied by the weirdly loud, hurried tapping of small feet startled Chloe out of the trance like state she honestly couldn’t tell how long she’d been lost into; she jumped on the spot and half turned around on instinct.</p>
<p>It was the easiest thing for the foam covered glass to slip from her wet hands and land on the hardwood floor below; a loud crash reverberating around the kitchen a fraction of a second later, tiny glass pieces flying everywhere and scattering around her feet.</p>
<p>“Fuck!” Chloe exclaimed, wet hand coming up to rest right over her heart that was pounding inside her chest, as her eyes scanned the mess around her; glimmering glass pieces strewn all around, perfectly still in their disjointed state.</p>
<p>As if they were mocking her.</p>
<p>She felt the stinging at the back of her eyes at the same time as a gentle, warm hand landed on her shoulder; the usually comforting, familiar touch doing nothing to prevent the sharp little stings deep inside.</p>
<p>It felt as if the little glass shards kept piercing right through her heart, and she clenched the fingers of her hand still resting on her chest, gripping at her own shirt.</p>
<p>“Chlo?”</p>
<p>The quiet voice reached her ears as from a distance, a note of concern evident in it. Absentmindedly noticing the moisture on her cheeks, Chloe turned her head to the side; eyes immediately meeting Beca’s concerned, sympathetic ones.</p>
<p>She could immediately find those eyes in a room filled with a thousand people; always drawn to them like a moth to the flame and yet they always felt like the most calming, soothing waters.</p>
<p>“Baby-” Beca started saying, and Chloe was already shaking her head no, when a small sniffle drew both their attention to the other side of the kitchen.</p>
<p>And if Chloe’s heart was dully aching before, she could swear she heard a loud crack coming straight from her chest at the sight of her son.</p>
<p>There he was, her little Noah, in his cute dinosaur pajamas they had picked together a couple of months ago; his favorite stuffed rabbit clutched in one hand and trailing behind him on the floor, a piece of paper clutched tightly in his other little fist.</p>
<p>It was his eyes, so similar to her own both in color and in how they always had his emotions mirrored in them, that had her inhaling shakily; she could see, even from a few feet away, tears gathering in them.</p>
<p>She could see his bottom lip trembling.</p>
<p>She could see how his little shoulders had slumped.</p>
<p>“Go- Go to him”, she urged Beca hoarsely before turning around again; hands gripping at the edges of the sink so tightly she watched her knuckles turn white after a few seconds.</p>
<p>She heard Beca’s footsteps moving away from her; she heard her gentle, quite voice- the voice Beca never admitted to even existing but that Chloe knew she reserved specifically for their son- murmuring words that she couldn’t make out. Peeking over her shoulder she allowed herself a few seconds to watch them; Beca crouched down by Noah’s side, one arm softly draped over his little shoulders as she talked to him.</p>
<p>It broke Chloe’s heart even further how he remained rooted to the spot, his eyes downcast as he nodded along to Beca’s words. She watched on as Beca leaned forward, pressing a soft lingering kiss to his temple before letting him go. As his small feet started carrying him out of the kitchen, Chloe turned back towards the sink; feeling more hot tears trailing down her cheeks as she heard Beca’s quiet footsteps approaching her once more.</p>
<p>A small sob escaped her the moment Beca’s hand landed on her shoulder again, and she shook her head; at what she didn’t know.</p>
<p>She tried to hold them back, but after a few seconds another sob escaped her lips, and then another; her arms shaking now as she kept gripping at the sink.</p>
<p>She didn’t fully realize when exactly was it that Beca wordlessly pulled her to her; arms tightly wrapped around her, holding her flush against the woman that truly was- had been for years now- her rock and her safest harbor. It was in those arms, her face pressed to the crook of Beca’s neck and inhaling her familiar scent through her tears, that Chloe fully let go; where she fully allowed herself to break down and cry and mourn yet another loss like she hadn’t managed to since they’d come back from the hospital about ten days ago.</p>
<p>“Shhh I’ve got you, baby. I’ve got you. You’re okay”, she heard Beca murmuring right by her ear, warm lips pressing to her cheek; and her tears fell even harder.</p>
<p>She was tired of failing. She was tired of having to pick up the pieces of her heart time and time again.</p>
<p>She was so scared.</p>
<p>Because what if she couldn’t? It had been the third time. What if she kept failing them? What if she never again-</p>
<p>“You’re not failing anyone, my love”, she heard Beca say quietly; it took her a second to realize she had spoken her innermost thoughts out loud. She felt Beca’s arms tightening more around her and she inhaled shakily, a couple of tears falling from her eyes even as her sobs had finally quieted down.</p>
<p>“What if-”</p>
<p>“We’ve got our little boy”, Beca interrupted her, gently but firmly. “We’ll keep trying for another baby if you want. As long as it’s not dangerous for you. But-” Beca leaned back a few inches and Chloe had to lift her head and meet her eyes; noticing how they shined a bit more, unshed tears in their depths.</p>
<p>“We’ve got Noah”, Beca continued. “And we’ll be okay, whether our family remains like it is today or we add another tiny human to it”.</p>
<p>Chloe nodded softly, feeling another tear running down her cheek. Of course they would be okay, and their little boy was more than she could have ever asked for. He was perfect, and he was more than enough.</p>
<p>It was just-</p>
<p>“I know”, Beca whispered softly, “I know, Chlo”.</p>
<p>A quiet sigh fell from Chloe’s lips, and she raised her hand; gently wiping away the single tear that was slowly trailing down Beca’s face before cupping her cheek in her palm; thumb gently stroking small circles against it.</p>
<p>How had she gotten so lucky? she wondered, taking a moment to stare into those mesmerizing deep blues. Darker in shade and yet, and it had been that way almost all their shared life, her light in the dark.</p>
<p>Her everlasting fairy lights.</p>
<p>She watched a small smile blossom on Beca’s lips, and she realized she was smiling too. And if there was still a tint of sadness to their smiles, it was okay.</p>
<p>They would be okay.</p>
<p>Inhaling a quiet breath she leaned forward; pressing her lips to Beca’s in the softest kiss she could master, arms safely wrapped around her waist. And it felt as if that moment was suddenly suspended in time; just the two of them, in their kitchen, leaning on each other and just. Breathing.</p>
<p>It was life. And it would be okay.</p>
<p>“I need to go talk to Noah; apologize to him”, she murmured as soon as she pulled back, a long moment later, sighing quietly. Their little guy was only three, but she knew it was important to do so nonetheless.</p>
<p>She felt Beca’s hand rubbing up and down her back gently.</p>
<p>“He’s okay, just a little shaken”, she reassured her quietly. “Here”, she said a beat later, offering her a piece of paper before pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “Go, and I’ll clean up here”.</p>
<p>A small nod later, Chloe stepped away from those comforting arms, feet carrying her to her son’s room. Before she entered, she remembered the paper in her hand.</p>
<p>Her breath caught in her throat when she unfolded it and looked at the colorful drawing she was holding. There they all were; Beca and her, ‘mummy’ and ‘mama’ scribbled over their heads respectively, each resting one hand on either of Noah’s little shoulders, him standing between them.</p>
<p>A soft chuckle fell from her lips at the huge tray of cinnamon rolls- she assumed that’s what they were- drawn in a corner; she had baked them for Christmas about a month ago and ever since then Noah had been obsessed with them.</p>
<p>Chloe smiled and swallowed back a fresh wave of tears, feeling her heart growing warmer than it had felt in days; ever since her latest miscarriage. Inhaling a deep breath she allowed herself to stare for a moment longer at Noah’s picture; eyes lingering on the wide smiles he had drawn on all their faces.</p>
<p>Yes, they would be okay either way.</p>
<p>It was still hurting, but. They would be okay.</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <em>“Do you hear that, Chlo? That’s a strong, healthy heart beat”.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Yeah, I- I can hear it. God, I can hear it”.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Oh would you look at that”.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“What is it, doc? Is everything okay?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Don’t worry, mrs Mitchell, everything is perfectly okay. However, it looks like…”</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong>year 17 (present day)</strong>
</p>
<p>Chloe watched, in the span of a few short seconds, Beca’s eyes focus and unfocus only to do the same all over again; she watched a dozen different small expressions cross that beautiful, oh so familiar face; she watched a hundred different, bright colors sparkle in her favorite eyes.</p>
<p>She was ready to ask again, to make sure that everything was okay; it wasn’t unusual for Beca to grow silent or pensive, but…daydreaming? Or whatever what was now happening was?</p>
<p>That was new.</p>
<p>And Chloe was a worrier.</p>
<p>She didn’t have the chance to, though. The moment she opened her mouth, the words literally on the tip of her tongue, a small, human-shaped ball of energy and excitement came barreling into the kitchen; little feet making enough noise on the hardwood floor to have them both jumping in place and turning to look at their son.</p>
<p>How could she help the wide smile that lifted the corners of her lips and all but reached her ears? She couldn’t.</p>
<p>There Noah was, standing so tall and handsome for his five years- where had time gone?- still in his frosty the snowman pajamas, having put on and laced up his own shoes- a recent achievement of his that had them both so proud- clutching tightly at his puffy winter jacket.</p>
<p>His little face flushed and eyes, resembling more and more Beca’s in color as the years passed, sparkling with barely contained excitement and joy.</p>
<p>“What’s up, little man?” It was Beca that had asked, and Chloe shot her a brief glance; smile softening. That tone- that quiet, tender one Beca reserved exclusively for their son- had remained unchanging ever since the day he had been born.</p>
<p>It made Chloe’s heart flutter and feel at peace.</p>
<p>“I was in the girly room-”, Noah started explaining, a little breathless from his run through the house, and Chloe quietly chuckled. They had tried to tell him that the correct way to say that was ‘the girls’ room’, but to no avail.</p>
<p>It was adorable and amusing, and her son was the cutest boy to ever exist. She was absolutely sure.</p>
<p>“- and I looked out the window and it’s snowing!” he exclaimed happily, eyes trained on Beca expectantly.</p>
<p>It was almost impossible for Chloe to contain her giggles but somehow she managed it, just as Beca returned her eyes to hers; a pleading, tortured look painted all over her face.</p>
<p>Her wife hated snow with a passion.</p>
<p>She was ready to concede and tell her that it was okay, she would go with Noah outside to look at the snowflakes falling, but it was right then that a small whimper came from the baby monitor as it stood between them on the kitchen aisle.</p>
<p>Chloe tilted her head a little, eyes sparkling with amusement at Beca’s groan and the dramatic drop of her head on her arms. Beca knew Chloe had to breastfeed.</p>
<p>Which meant that she couldn’t take Beca’s place out in the snow with their son after all.</p>
<p>Which meant- Beca had to do it.</p>
<p> Untying her apron from around her waist, Chloe circled the kitchen aisle and wrapped her arms loosely around Beca’s neck just as another small whimper came from the baby monitor.</p>
<p>Smiling, she pressed a soft kiss to Beca’s cheek; feeling slender, gentle arms wrapping around her own waist.</p>
<p>“Don’t forget your coat, baby”, she murmured, inhaling quietly; the scent of cinnamon mixed with Beca’s distinct one invading her senses and making her heart skip a beat.</p>
<p>She knew that this feeling, peace and safety and… home; that wasn’t something everyone had. And she’d never stop being grateful about being one of the lucky ones.</p>
<p>The gentle stroke of a warm hand to her cheek had a soft sigh escaping her, smile never falling from her lips. She allowed herself to lean into the familiar touch for a short moment, before a louder cry came from the baby monitor this time.</p>
<p>“Go”, Beca urged quietly, “or Ivy is gonna wake up Lydia and then you’ll need my help; and the little guy will be disappointed he doesn’t get to stay out longer”.</p>
<p>Chloe didn’t comment on how Beca could tell their babies apart just from their cries over the baby monitor. She just pressed a soft, chaste kiss to Beca’s lips; smiling into it and feeling Beca do the same.</p>
<p>With a small nod she untangled herself from the most grounding, most tender arms that had ever held her and headed out of the kitchen; playfully ruffling Noah’s hair on her way out.</p>
<p>His little giggle and bright smile warming her up like nothing else; something she was sure was reflected in her eyes as she shot one last look at Beca over her shoulder.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <strong>[ pov change ]</strong>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Beca took a quiet breath as Chloe rounded the corner and disappeared from view; all the colors that she was lingering behind like an echo.</p>
<p>So many moments, big and small and happy and sad; a whole life’s worth of them. From their first year in college to now.</p>
<p>Married, with three beautiful, healthy children of their own.</p>
<p>Living a life Beca hadn’t dared to even dream of, way back when.</p>
<p>And yet, here she was. Living it.</p>
<p>With Chloe -always- firmly by her side, and so many more years ahead of them to still experience.</p>
<p>The smell of cinnamon all around and their hands safely clasped together.</p>
<p>“Can we go now, mummy, can we?”</p>
<p>Beca’s eyes met their son’s expectant ones. And she wondered just then, her gaze gently running all over his little face; how could people not believe in magic?</p>
<p>Offering him a soft smile and a small nod, she stood up and stretched a bit before heading for the coat closet.</p>
<p>“Come on, buddy; let’s bundle up or mama will send us both to our rooms”.</p>
<p>She couldn’t help but laugh right along with him, the happy sound reaching the nursery and the rocking chair where Chloe had just sat with their little girl in her arms; swirling all around the now quiet room in- Chloe could swear- visible golden thread.</p>
<p>The cinnamon rolls would burn again that year, forgotten in the oven as the snow fell and the sound of a softly sang lullaby met and tangled with little squeals and echoed laughter from the backyard.</p>
<p>Oh well.</p>
<p>They could always make more.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <strong>The End</strong>
  </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>if you want, you can come find me on <a href="https://anastasia-93-daybidaylove.tumblr.com/">Tumblr</a> <br/> feedback is always more than welcome!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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